The Shield
by Creeper2
Summary: Sara in Peril, Grissom in Turmoil. Based on spoilers for upcoming episodes. DO NOT READ if you do not want to know what happens in upcoming episodes.


HUGE SPOILER ALERT!

WARNING!

DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS LATER ON IN THIS SEASON!

A/N This is based on spolers for the 20th episode this season. This is based on a spoiler based on the first draft of an episode which may or may not be the season finale. Furthermore it involves info from many of the episodes already aired in the US this year, so if you want to remain in the dark, DO NOT READ THIS STORY.

Warning now out of the way, on to the story. Next chapter to be posted tomorrow or Saturday.

Shield  
by Creeper2

Grissom scrubbed furiously at the dark stain. Nothing would get it out, he knew. But still he scrubbed until his hands grew numb from the cold water and his eyes blurred with tears. Blinking his eyes, trying to hold in the emotion, he turned off the water and left his shirt in the sink. He stumbled into his living room and collapsed on his rock hard couch.

He looked at his hands. Wrinkled and pink from over thirty minutes of washing, they should have been clean. Yet they still felt dirty. Was the area around his fingernails a little darker than it should be? Had he missed some tiny trace evidence? Was her blood still there?

Grissom now knew how people could become obsessive compulsive. He knew his hands were clean. He knew he should just throw out the shirt. But the taint was still there and he had to fight to overcome the urge to continue his fruitless cleansing ritual.

He closed his eyes against the morning light and almost wished for a migraine. He knew how to handle those. There was medication that could ease that pain. But there was nothing he could do to fight the rising panic and dread. For when he closed his eyes he found no relief. When he closed his eyes, all he saw was her.

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"You'll want to stay with me at all times when you're in here. We keep tight control of our inmates but they are still dangerous."

"Inmates. Not patients?" Sara walked slowly, hugging the side of the corridor where there were no doors. The inmates had heard their approaching footsteps and were now eyeing them through the reinforced glass window in each door. Actually they were eyeing Sara who was growing more and more uncomfortable under their scrutiny. One had his face pressed up against the glass and was licking it.

"Keep your tongue in your mouth where it belongs, Jones!" Their guide kicked the door with his foot and the inmate stepped back, grinning. "These guys might be classified as criminally insane, but there's really nothing we can do to treat them. Their violent psychopaths and a lot of them were committed for multiple sexual crimes. Whether or not they have any mental disease is up for debate. For some of them, its just a convenient diagnosis so we can hold them indefinitely. You wouldn't want these guys getting out."

Sara nodded and looked over at Grissom who didn't even appear to notice the looks being cast her way. In an attempt to get his attentions Sara laughed. She was aware that it sounded forced, but anything to relieve the tension was good at this point. "Ever see Silence of the Lambs?"

Grissom merely looked at her, his expression unreadable. But the guard laughed. "I loved that movie. But as far as I know we don't have any cannibals in here. And you're a lot cuter than Jodie Foster."

Sara smiled. "I don't know about that, but thanks anyway."

"Where's the body?" Grissom was all business and the brief moment of levity was out the window.

"Last room on the right."

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Grissom could still see every one of them. Hungry demented eyes searching for prey. That was his impression at least. Caged animals just looking for their chance. He kept his eyes fixed on the end of the hallway, but he could feel their gaze and the impact it had on Sara.

Whether consciously or not, Sara, supremely confident and powerful Sara, had withdrawn to the far side of the corridor and was standing slightly behind him as though to use his body as a shield. He kept walking steadily determined to keep their relative positions stable. It wasn't hard. Somehow he always seemed to know where she was. His body felt bigger, almost more masculine around her. If she felt safer walking beside him, then all the better.

And then that sick bastard had shattered the relative calm of their foray into the realm of madmen. It had taken all his control not to break down the door and rip his tongue out. For some reason Grissom felt protective and yet violent at the same time. He was not used to such strong and primitive desires. He stayed immobile though as Sara cowered behind him a little, maintaining his cold façade as his blood boiled.

And then that little puke of a guard had to go and flirt with her. He could hear the tension behind her laugh and quips, and smiled just a bit to hear her try and diffuse the situation. But the guard had taken it as an invitation to further intimacy. Grissom stopped that before it could go anywhere and their arrival at the crime scene brought Sara back to center. She slipped easily back into her role as a professional and assured CSI.

He had stayed standing at the doorway while she started photographing evidence. He still felt protective towards her and was unwilling to give up that role yet. He imagined himself a solid brick wall keeping her safe, keeping out all those who would harm her. It felt good. He had relished going to bat for her against Ecklie and defending her to Catherine. He could protect her.

But in the end he had failed. He had promised himself that he would never let her be hurt again, and he had failed. The imaginary stain of blood on his hands and the real one on his shirt would be eternal reminders of that.

TBC... Tomorrow


End file.
